


Even Paradise

by TheBadPlace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Butt Plugs, Come Marking, Dead Sheriff Stilinski, Feeding Kink, Full Shift Werewolves, Infantilism, Kidnapped Stiles, M/M, Oral Fixation, Orphan Stiles Stilinski, Past Child Abuse, Possessive Derek, Scent Marking, Somnophilia, Stockholm Syndrome, Touch-Starved Derek, Touch-Starved Stiles Stilinski, Unreliable Narrator, Watersports, Werewolf Culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-02-08 01:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12853986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBadPlace/pseuds/TheBadPlace
Summary: Stiles is stolen from a lonely life and gifted to Derek in order to keep him from losing himself to his wolf. Derek doesn't want a human in his house, not after what happened with the last human he trusted. But there's something about his perfect baby boy that he just can't resist.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This story deals with forced infantilism, non-con medical procedures, an underage character (Stiles is sixteen when he's taken) and a complete and utter lack of consent. Mostly this is just an excuse for porn. I will add tags for specific kinks as they come up, so keep an eye on the tags if there are things that bother you.
> 
> If you have issues with underage/non-con stories treated as romantic, you definitely shouldn't be here. Please remember to take care of yourself. Don't read things that you know will upset you. <3

_If you go anywhere, even Paradise, you will miss your home._

~~~

Derek’s an hour into his morning workout when his phone rings. He grunts and grabs it without bothering to check the caller ID, jaw clenching at the interruption.

“Hale.”

“Mr. Hale, this is Melissa down at the Center,” a female voice says. “I’m calling to let you know that we’ve recently acquired a baby who meets your specifications.”

Derek bites back a groan at the news. Of all the ways he could have been interrupted, this is probably the last one he’d pick. He’s been registered at the Center since he was taken in by the Commune as an omega, but not because he particularly wants to be. He’s registered because it’s mandatory, and he knows his resistance to the process is starting to make the Were Council antsy.

He’s so resistant, in fact, that he’s made his specifications impossible to meet. Except apparently he didn’t do a good enough job if they’re claiming to have found him a match. 

“All my specifications?” he asks, hoping for a reason to refuse even so much as a courtesy visit in order to reject this so-called match.

“All of the important ones,” she says in a voice that brooks no argument. “He’s the right age, with the right coloring, and no one will be looking for him.”

“You’re sure?” Derek demands, voice sharp, because honestly that’s the most important detail, as far as Derek’s concerned.

“He’s all alone in the world, Mr. Hale,” she answers, her voice softening in sympathy, maybe.

Derek feels the tug in his gut at the thought, because he knows exactly what it’s like to be all alone without anyone to miss him. That’s how it was before he found his way to the Commune, with his family dead and no one to care if he lived or died except the hunters who were trying to kill him.

He’s still mostly alone, keeping to himself even within the safe walls of the Commune. It’s the main reason he doesn’t want to comply with the Commune’s rule about keeping a human, even though he knows from his own experiences with pack life that humans are just as grounding as the Council claims they are.

The trouble is that humans are also dangerous, and after one of them used him to kill his entire family he doesn’t know how he could ever trust one again. Derek’s fairly sure that’s the reason the Council hasn’t pressured him much so far, but it’s been six months and the longer he spends alone in his cabin in the woods, the more their patience runs thin.

“Fine, I’ll stop in this afternoon to take a look,” Derek says, resigned to the fact that he’s at least going to have to meet a human today, if not take one home.

“Wonderful,” Melissa says, her voice brightening instantly. “We’ll be here waiting.”

Derek sighs as he hangs up his cell and drops it back on the coffee table. He runs his hands over his face, blowing out a sharp breath before he tries to refocus on getting through another hour of push-ups. He only makes it twenty-five minutes before he growls and pushes himself off the floor too roughly, ignoring the gauges his claws leave in the wood.

He stands up and marches into his bedroom, tearing through his closet a little too roughly in search of something a little more appropriate than sweatpants and a sweaty tank top to wear to meet someone he has no intention of bringing home. 

Twenty minutes later he’s showered and dressed in dark jeans and a forest green Henley. His mother used to buy him a lot of clothes in this particular shade of green, insisting it brought out the color of his eyes. He has no idea if that’s true or not, but the memory doesn’t hurt as much as some of the others, so he tends to gravitate toward it these days.

He pauses at the front door, debating whether or not he can get away with running all the way to the Center. It’s not that far, just in the center of town, and he’d prefer a run through the woods to driving. But if he shows up on foot they’ll know he has no intention of taking this seriously, and he really needs to keep the Council off his back for as long as possible. That means playing along, pretending there’s a chance he’ll go home with his very own human today.

In the end he rolls his eyes at himself and grabs his car keys, then he shuts the cabin door behind him and jogs down the porch steps to his car.

The Center isn’t the only place in the Commune to get a human. The Council also hosts a yearly mating run, with humans who know about the supernatural and volunteer to live among werewolves. Some of them are unmated humans who grew up in packs, some of them are just people looking for someplace to belong, kind of like Derek when he first turned up at the Commune.

But Derek knows he could never trust a human who volunteered to be here of their own free will. He couldn’t live with someone like that under his roof, sleeping with one eye open and just waiting for the day his so-called mate turns on him the same way that Kate did. The Council must have known he couldn’t handle a mate, because they more than encouraged him to choose the Center when they stipulated that in order to stay in the Commune, he had to take in a human eventually.

“It will keep you from spending all your time in your fur,” Deucalion had said when Derek scoffed at the idea. “Having another life completely dependent on you will help you hold onto your human side. And if you can’t do that, I’m afraid you and I both know what that means for you, Derek.”

He scowls at the memory and pulls into a parking spot outside the Center. It’s a nondescript one-story building, white with blue shutters to make it look more inviting. To Derek it looks like torture, but the Council doesn’t care how much he doesn’t want to do this. So Derek forces himself out of his car and climbs the few steps up to the front of the building, bracing himself before he opens the door and steps into the small reception area.

As soon as he steps inside the receptionist looks up, a polite smile on her face. “Mr. Hale, we weren’t expecting you so soon. I’ll let Melissa know you’re here.”

He’s not surprised that she knows exactly who he is. What happened to his family is a warning tale told throughout the supernatural community, and there have been more than a few curious stares directed at him since he came to live at the Commune. It’s the reason he hardly ever leaves his house, unless it’s to go running deep in the woods where most of the weres in the community don’t bother to venture.

Derek nods his thanks and takes a seat, doing his best to ignore the framed photos on the walls of happy werewolf parents holding their brand new babies. This option for choosing a human is generally reserved for new couples, people who haven’t had cubs of their own yet but still want a ‘baby’ around to dote on. And when they do have their own children, the human grows up alongside them, at least to a certain point. Everyone chooses where to stop the human’s maturity based on their own needs, but Derek’s been assured that the doctors in the Commune can do pretty much anything.

He’d asked, when they first told him about the adoption program, where they get the humans they adopt out. The answers were frustratingly vague, but he’d been assured that the doctors could help him keep his charge as helpless and dependent as he needs for as long as he likes. There’s no chance of any ‘baby’ adopted from the Center turning on him, waiting until he falls asleep and then setting his house alight and running off through the woods. Any baby he takes home will be more or less immobile, at least in the beginning, completely at his mercy.

The thought stirs something dark in Derek, but he reminds himself again that the human he’s come here to meet isn’t Kate. He’s nothing like Kate, and from the brief description he’s been given, he’s just as alone in the world as Derek. There’s no one for him to reach out to, no one to come looking for him, and that means Derek can do whatever he wants and there will be no one to complain about it.

Of course, if he kills the kid the Council would probably frown on it, and then he’d get even more stares when he does go into town. So he promises himself that he’ll keep his anger toward humans and the world in general under tight control, at least as long as it takes to look at the human and tell this Melissa that he’s not good enough.

He’s only been waiting a few minutes when the door next to the reception window opens, and a woman with dark hair and a kind smile steps out. “Mr. Hale, I’m Melissa McCall. Thank you so much for coming.”

He doesn’t bother pointing out that he didn’t really have a choice. Instead he nods and stands, wiping his hands on his jean-clad thighs before he holds one out to her. “Derek, please.”

“Of course,” she says with another sunny smile. “Why don’t we go talk in my office for a few minutes? You can look over Stiles’ file and I’ll take you in to meet him.”

“Stiles?”

“A nickname, of course,” Melissa says, glancing over her shoulder as she leads him into a small, tidy office. “His real name is a bit of a mouthful, so he seems to have adopted an abbreviated version of his last name. Of course, you can call him whatever you like, he’ll adjust quickly. I have to say I’ve never seen a human take to the program as well as he has. It’s almost as though he was desperate for someone to take care of him.”

Derek’s heart clenches at her words, but he tries to keep the emotion off his face as she hands him a thick file. He flips it open, his gaze falling on a single photograph clipped to the inside front cover. It’s obviously been taken from a distance and far above the boy in the picture, as though the photographer was on a roof, maybe. This Stiles is young, with pale skin dotted with beauty marks, hair tousled by the wind and drowning in a too-big hoodie that looks as though it’s seen a lot of wear.

He’s mostly turned away from the camera, but the sunlight catches his eyes in such a way that they seem to glow beta gold. Derek frowns and looks up at Melissa to find her giving him a knowing smile. “How?”

“This boy was carefully selected for you,” she answers, then she pushes another paper across the desk toward him. He looks down to see the list of specifications he’d laid out, the ones he’d thought would be impossible to meet. “The Council is well aware of your...difficulties in accepting a human. They’re perfectly understandable, but they were determined to find exactly the right baby for you. I believe Deucalion himself has been overseeing the search.”

“How can no one be looking for him?” Derek asks, glancing down at the picture again. “He’s so beautiful.”

“His mother died when he was just a boy, and his father seems to have followed not too long ago. Before that the father was, by all accounts, a violent drunk. Stiles entered the foster care program roughly a year ago. The home he was taken from hasn’t even reported yet that he’s missing, most likely because the checks they get for his support will stop as soon as the foster care system realizes he’s no longer under their roof.”

She sounds as disgusted as Derek feels. He flips through the file, eyes catching details here and there about Stiles’ life before the Council had him taken. With each detail he finds it harder and harder not to let his claws out, wanting to tear through everyone who’s ever hurt this kid he’s never even seen before. Derek has no idea why he feels so protective of him; he’s just a human, after all, just one more kid lost in a system that was never designed to protect them.

But Stiles is sixteen, the same age Derek was when his family was murdered, and if Melissa’s right about the way he’s accepted what’s happening to him now, he really does need someone. It’s confusing and a little terrifying to realize he’s actually considering going through with this, but he knows they’re going to make him choose a human eventually, whether he likes it or not. Shouldn’t it be one who was so carefully selected, just for him?

Derek swallows a sigh and picks up his list of specifications again. She’s right that they’ve managed to meet all the important ones. Stiles is sixteen, exactly the age he was looking for, and he’s got no one out there to claim him, just like Derek. He’s got dark hair and amber eyes, and when they catch the light just right they look like beta eyes.

That particular specification Derek threw in just because he knew it would be impossible to meet. He’s honestly half-expecting to meet Stiles for the first time and find that they’ve doctored the picture somehow, especially since he knows Stiles will be asleep when Derek first sees him. If that’s the case he should refuse on principle, but as he scans the list and realizes how many of his frivolous demands are checked off, he knows he won’t.

“A beauty mark on his left cheek and another near his ear,” Melissa says, and Derek blushes and looks up.

“I was…”

“Trying to make sure you were impossible to match, I know,” she finishes for him, not unkindly. “Like I said, your reluctance is understandable. But between you and me, Deucalion never backs down from a challenge.”

Derek rolls his eyes and ignores the blush creeping into his cheeks. He probably should have realized how transparent he was being, or at the very least tried a little harder to pretend enthusiasm. What’s done is done, though, and Melissa looks more amused than annoyed.

“Now,” she says, clapping her hands together, “I’ve been instructed not to let you leave here without at least meeting Stiles in person. But something tells me it won’t be as much of a struggle as we expected.”

She winks and stands up to lead him back down the hall, further away from the reception area until they come to a closed door. Derek knows what happens now; the process was explained to him when they coerced him into registering with the Center, about the receiving rooms where parents first meet their potential babies. They’re completely sanitized, free of any smells other than the baby itself, so that the potential parents can get a totally undiluted scent.

Derek knows that this can make or break the whole process. Because of their heightened senses, if any given person smells wrong, there’s no way they’ll be able to live under the same roof. It had been Derek’s plan, if all else failed, to walk into the receiving room, spend a couple seconds pretending to scent the kid, and then announce he smelled all wrong and leave empty-handed.

Now he’s not sure whether or not he’s hoping the kid smells _right_ , and that’s more terrifying than anything.

Melissa smiles like she knows what he’s thinking and reaches out to rest a hand on his arm. “I’ll give you some privacy. He’s still asleep, but the sedatives will wear off in an hour or so. Just go in there, scent him, and if you feel like he’s the one, mark him. There are fresh diapers right on the shelf, and a comfortable chair if you need to take a little extra time. When you’re done, you can both come find me, or you can leave him where he is and find me alone.”

He knows what she’s saying. If Derek decides to go through with this, if he actually _marks_ this defenseless little human, there’s no way he’ll be able to let Stiles out of his sight even long enough to track down Melissa. So if he decides to take Stiles home, he’ll bring Stiles with him when he finds her to finish the final paperwork. The thought makes his hands shake a little as he nods and reaches for the doorknob, then he slips inside the dimly lit room and shuts it behind him.

For a full minute he stands just inside the door, letting the scents of the hallway and Melissa’s brief touch float away until it’s just him again. Only then does he let himself take in the room, the adult-sized changing table on one side and an oversize bassinet in the corner. There’s a soft rocking chair next to the bassinet, and Derek holds his breath as he walks across the room to look down at the unconscious form lying there.

He breathes in deep, inhaling the scents of fresh grass and cinnamon with a vague hint of citrus. It soothes him instantly, and before he knows what he’s doing he reaches out to run his fingers along the boy's pink cheek. He's even got the damn beauty marks, and Derek swallows a laugh when he realizes exactly how far Deucalion had gone to make sure he wouldn't refuse.

“Look at you,” Derek murmurs, fingers sliding along pink lips, and when the baby lets out a little cooing sound and tries to suck one of Derek’s fingers into his mouth, he lets the tip of his thumb slip in to touch a wet tongue.

Instantly Stiles starts sucking, the sensation going straight to Derek’s dick, and he knows there’s no way he’s leaving here without this human. “You’re just perfect, aren’t you?”

At the sound of his voice Stiles stirs, lips smacking against Derek’s thumb before he lets it slip from his slack mouth. His eyes flutter open, just for a second, but it’s long enough for Derek to catch a glimpse of amber. It’s enough to know they hadn’t doctored the picture at all, and somehow Derek had managed to describe the perfect human without even trying.

Once Stiles closes his eyes and settles back into sleep Derek slides his hands under his warm body and lifts him out of the bassinet, careful to support his head. The blanket he’s been wrapped in falls back into the bed, and Derek sees that he’s undressed except for a diaper. He takes a moment to admire all that pale skin and the beauty marks that go even further down than Derek hoped, then he carries Stiles over to the changing table and sets him down.

He’s even more perfect laid out like this, pale skin on display and his little eyelids fluttering in some dream. Derek runs a hand down his pale chest, over his flat stomach to trace the beauty marks along one side. He traces his hands over Stiles’ thighs, marveling at how smooth and hairless he is. He knows it’s because of whatever treatments the doctors give him to de-age him, but he hadn’t counted on it turning him on so much.

He’s a little thin, and Derek wonders just how much worse it was before the Council got their hands on him. Anger wells up in him again, at the father who didn’t deserve to call himself that, and at the foster parents who clearly didn’t care. But Stiles is his now, and Derek’s going to make sure no one ever hurts him again. 

Derek takes a breath and reaches for the diaper, opening the tape and pulling it away to reveal the last bit of his baby boy. His breath leaves him in a rush, and he feels his fangs trying to come out with the nearly overwhelming need to _claim_. He breathes in, then again through his nose, slowly pulling his wolf back in. It’s a struggle, but he finally manages to get himself under control.

When he’s sure he’s not going to pop claws and ruin everything by maiming his baby he reaches out, a gentle hand cupping Stiles’ dick and balls. He’s a decent size, a little more than a handful even soft, and the complete lack of hair somehow makes it even better. Derek has no idea what that says about him, and he doesn’t really care. All he cares about is the fact that this boy is _his_ , and no one’s ever going to take him away.

He can tell Stiles is untouched, smells the innocence of youth still clinging to him that wouldn’t be there if someone else had gotten their hands on him first. He’d worried, when he heard his baby had spent an entire year in foster care, but now he’s almost grateful for the drunk father who probably kept him so cowed he didn’t have much of a chance at a life before.

Derek leans in anyway, one hand wrapped around both Stiles’ slender ankles to lift his legs off the table and expose his pucker. He presses his nose right against it, breathing in deep, and when Stiles lets out a soft sigh he smiles and slides his tongue across it before he sets him back down on the table.

“My beautiful baby,” Derek murmurs, one hand cupping Stiles’ round ass for a second before he reluctantly pulls away. “So perfect for me.”

He’s half hard just from a few minutes with his perfect baby, and Derek wants to come on him, to rub his seed into Stiles’ skin and mark him that way. It’s not technically forbidden, having a sexual relationship with the humans from the Center. After all, as Stiles’ daddy, Derek’s going to be in charge of taking care of _all_ his needs. Still, he knows most of the parents of human babies are happily mated, so they order special toys or use their hands to take care of any biological urges.

Derek already knows that’s not how his relationship with his baby is going to be, but he doesn’t want to announce it to the whole world before he even gets Stiles home. Most of the Commune already thinks there’s something wrong with him, that he’s damaged from the fire and the loss of his pack. He doesn’t want them calling him a deviant behind his back too, at least not as long as he can help it.

So he lowers the changing table with the special lever on the side, just like they explained when he got his initial tour of the Center, until Stiles’ perfect little ass is lined up with Derek’s dick. For marking purposes, they’d said during the tour, because humans need to be marked on a regular basis. Most of them shouldn’t be wandering around on their own, but in the terrifying event that one got lost or wandered off, they needed to be marked as a were’s property to stop them from being harmed by another member of the Commune.

Still, the whole explanation had been delivered with a wink, which tells Derek that satisfying the human babies’ biological urges firsthand isn’t quite as unusual as everyone pretends. He reins in the urge to come on his baby anyway, promising himself that he’ll save that pleasure for later, when they’re safe at home.

Home where he doesn’t have a single thing a baby needs, he realizes belatedly, his heart sinking at how unprepared he is to take care of his human. Most of the parents who come to the Center are so gungho about the process that they’re ready months in advance, with a whole nursery set up and boxes of diapers and toys. Derek’s been so resistant to the process he doesn’t have so much as a can of formula.

The guilt kills his erection, at least, so he pushes the problem aside for now and reaches down to unzip his jeans. He pulls his dick out and uses his other hand to lift Stiles’ legs again, just a little this time so he can aim for his balls and his little pucker at the same time. It only takes a few seconds for the stream of warm piss to start flowing, covering Stiles’ soft dick and making it stir in his sleep.

Derek smiles at that, watching as his piss runs down Stiles’ thighs and ass to soak into the diaper under him. When he’s done Derek sets his legs down again, then he tucks himself back into his jeans before he reaches for a cloth to pat the baby dry. When Derek swipes over his little hole Stiles sighs again, his dick swelling a little more, and Derek rubs his thumb over the head and smiles when his baby’s hips twitch into his touch.

“So responsive,” he murmurs, but he forces himself to let go and deals with the sodden diaper and the cloth. There’s a stack of fresh diapers right where Melissa said he’d find them, and when Derek’s finished taping Stiles into his new diaper he pats the front where his little dick is still showing signs of interest. “Just wait until we get home, sweetheart, and Daddy will take care of everything.”

He picks up the plain blue onesie someone obviously laid out for him, carefully working Stiles’ pliant limbs into it and zipping him in. He knows already that his boy’s not going to spend much time with anything more than a diaper on, but it’s getting a little chilly out, and he doesn’t want to bring him outside without at least some protection.

It’s tempting to sit in the chair and rock him for awhile now that he’s clean and dressed and smells like Derek. He doesn’t have a rocker at home — doesn’t even have a crib — but the part of Derek that just wants to get him home where they can be alone wins out. He picks up his baby and cradles him carefully against his chest, running his fingers over a soft cheek one more time before he opens the door and carries Stiles down the hall to Melissa’s office.

She’s sitting at her desk when he pokes his head in, and when he knocks she looks up and smiles ear to ear at the sight of him holding Stiles. “So you’ve made your decision.”

Derek nods and looks down at the boy sleeping against his chest. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Don’t know why you’d bother to try. He’s such an angel.”

“He really is.”

When he finally looks up again Melissa’s smiling fondly, and Derek can’t help smiling back. It’s the first time since he got to the Commune that he’s really felt like he’s part of something, and he wants to laugh, because this is exactly what Deucalion tried to convince him would happen.

“There are just a few papers to sign,” Melissa says, “then you can take your little one home.”

Derek winces at the reminder and clutches his boy just a little closer. “I don’t have anything for him. I don’t even have a car seat.”

Melissa smiles again, some exasperation sneaking in with the fondness. “Everything’s been taken care of. Deucalion was confident you’d change your mind once you met him.”

Derek’s not sure how to feel about his cabin being invaded while he’s not there, but after a moment he decides to go with grateful. He really did have nothing, and one of the plus sides of living in a huge pack like the one that makes up the Commune means there are people to pick up his slack whether he wants them to or not.

He nods and grants her a small smile, then he takes a seat, careful not to jostle his baby when he moves. He signs everywhere she tells him, barely glancing at each page because he doesn’t care what they say as long as Stiles is his forever. 

When he finally finishes Melissa gathers the pages and smiles at him in a way that reminds him painfully of his mother. “Now, if you have any questions or concerns at all, call me. That’s what I’m here for.”

He nods and they both stand up, then he follows her down the hall and back into the reception area where there’s a car seat waiting by the door. Derek raises an eyebrow and Melissa smirks.

“Deucalion was _very_ confident.”

Derek just rolls his eyes and picks up the car seat with his free hand. He doesn’t argue when Melissa follows him out to his car, because he has no idea how to install a car seat. His father’s Camaro isn’t ideal, but together they manage to get Stiles strapped in securely. 

When he straightens up Melissa places her hand on his arm again, and for some reason the motherly gesture makes his throat close up a little. “I’m so happy for you, Derek. You deserve this.”

“Thank you,” he says, because he doesn’t deserve it, but he’s going to take it anyway. 

“I meant what I said. Call if you have any questions at all. I know how overwhelming it can be in the beginning, especially on your own. And when you’re ready for play dates, I can help you there too. My son and his mate have a little one of their own.”

Derek nods and lets her squeeze his arm one last time, then he ducks into his car before she gives in to the hug he can tell she’s fighting. Once she heads back inside with a final wave Derek takes a deep breath, then he looks in the rear view mirror to watch Stiles sleeping. His heart clenches as he breathes in their mingled scents, and he feels something in him settle in a way it hasn’t since the fire.

“It’s just you and me now, baby boy,” he says, and when Stiles mumbles in his sleep, Derek smiles and points the Camaro toward home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Non-con touching, implied drugging, forced infantilism, watersports, discussion of come marking.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time they get home the cabin’s been turned into some kind of baby paradise. There are toys everywhere, a line of clean bottles drying next to the sink and cans of formula stacked next to them. Derek bristles at the scent of strangers still in the air, but he’s grateful they at least didn’t try to stick around for some kind of welcome home party. 

He snuggles his baby a little closer, pressing his nose to Stiles’ hair and breathing in his sweet scent before he wanders into the cabin’s only bedroom to find a crib set up next to the bed. It feels strange, knowing other weres have been in his bedroom, but he has to admit it’s nice to have someplace to put Stiles down for his naps. He’s not sure yet whether or not he’ll keep his baby in bed with him at night, but it’s good to have the option.

Right now he doesn’t even want to set his boy down long enough to take off his jacket, though. Stiles’ weight feels so _good_ pressed against him, the touch awaking long-forgotten instincts and making him wish he hadn’t bothered with the onesie after all. He wants to feel Stiles’ skin against his, warm and soft and so perfect Derek’s almost breathless with it.

There’s a changing table set up under the bedroom window, one of the adjustable ones like they have at the Center. Derek settles his sweet baby on the thick pad, then he slides off his jacket and tosses it toward the bed. He doesn’t look to see where it lands. He doesn’t have eyes for anything but Stiles right now, and he’s honestly not sure he ever will again.

He carefully works Stiles’ limbs back out of his onesie, setting it aside before he turns back to his boy. His breathing has gotten a little more shallow and he’s starting to make more noises, breathy murmurs that make Derek smile. He knows Stiles won’t be able to talk even once he’s awake, but he’s still looking forward to hearing what he sounds like when he babbles for real. He can’t wait to see his baby’s first smile, or watch those amber eyes glisten when they fill with tears for the first time.

A thrill runs down his spine at the thought, but Derek shakes it off and pulls Stiles’ diaper off. He’s not going to make his sweet boy cry, not on purpose, no matter how much the thought appeals to part of him. That’s the part that will always rage against Kate and the injustice of her escaping after what she did to his family. He should have killed her, should have made her pay for her crime, but by the time he realized what was happening she was already in the wind.

For years he tracked her, always just a few steps behind, and he nearly got himself killed by other hunters a time or two because of it. After his last near-fatal dose of wolfsbane he had to give up the chase, to admit that he wasn’t going to get his revenge, not by hunting her down like the animal she’s always thought he was.

It was a group of scouts from the Commune that found him and saved him from certain death, and when Deucalion offered him a place as long as he let go of his vendetta, Derek agreed. For the past six months he’s kept to himself, wondering if he made the right choice or if he should have just stayed out there and gotten himself killed, just so he could be with his family again. But now, standing here looking down at this helpless human, watching his eyelids flutter as he starts to wake up, Derek knows he made the right choice.

He leans in close and presses a kiss to Stiles’ flat tummy, then another to the creamy skin just above his cock. He loves how smooth Stiles is, can’t get enough of touching his baby soft skin as Stiles sighs and squirms a little under his hands. Derek presses his nose to the crease of Stiles’ groin and breathes in the scents of boy musk and innocence and his own piss, the combination making his head spin as he opens his mouth to taste the skin there.

Bitter salt bursts on his tongue and he lets his fangs drop, just enough to scrape against pale skin without breaking the surface. He wants to mark his boy, to claim him permanently, but he knows it’s too soon for that. If they’d met during the mating run Derek would have claimed him already, but this is a different situation. Even other weres probably won’t understand Derek’s need to _own_ Stiles, to have him completely under Derek’s power in every way imaginable.

So he pulls the wolf back, fangs receding as he presses soft kisses down the warm skin of Stiles’ inner thighs. His hands part his boy’s legs, holding them open and lifting a little so he can get another look at his perfect ass. He uses his thumbs to spread Stiles’ cheeks until his hole is revealed, dusky pink and untouched.

Derek’s cock jerks at the thought, already hard and standing proud, and it’s hard to resist the urge to take Stiles right now. He’s still out of it enough that he’d probably sleep through Derek pushing inside and fucking him open, and by the time he was aware enough to feel any pain Derek would have pulled the soreness out of him already.

He reaches down to free his cock from his jeans, squeezes the hard length and feels it pulse in his hand before he shuffles forward another few inches and runs the head over his baby’s little hole, leaving behind a glossy trail of precome. He doesn’t push inside, no matter how tempting the thought is. Instead he runs his thumb through the moisture, working it around his boy’s rim until his pucker flutters for him.

As if he’s asking to be filled, even though he’s never been touched that way before. Then again, maybe his baby’s experimented on his own before, sucked his long, lovely fingers until they’re good and wet and pushed them inside, just to see how it would feel. He’s never going to touch himself like that again, of course, but Derek likes to imagine it anyway, his boy in the dark somewhere, lonely and waiting for his daddy to come and rescue him, filling himself up so he won’t feel so alone.

Derek’s cock jumps in his grip and he groans, stroking with more purpose now. He pictures his baby working his fingers at an awkward angle, trying so hard to find that magic spot that only his daddy will ever touch. It only takes a few more strokes before Derek feels the pressure building in his groin, and he points his cock at his baby’s hole and lets go. Come spurts out of him in thick ropes, over Stiles’ dick and sliding down past his balls. He runs his fingers through it as he strokes himself through the end of his orgasm, rubbing his seed into Stiles’ thighs and chasing it down his crack to rub some more into his hole.

The smell of his come on Stiles’ skin helps his wolf settle, so Derek keeps rubbing the cooling liquid into his boy. He uses his come to ease the way as he breaches his baby’s pucker with the tip of one finger, gently working in to the first knuckle before he pulls back out again. He gathers more come on his finger and slides it back in, and this time Stiles’ muscles clench hard around him, a confused sound escaping him even as his body tries to draw his daddy further inside.

Derek looks up to find sleepy amber eyes blinking up at him, his heart melting at the sight of his baby truly awake for the first time. He works his finger in little circles until Stiles relaxes just a bit, his little cock twitching against his stomach as Derek works him open.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Derek says, keeping his voice soft. “Are you ready for Daddy to make you feel good?”

His brain tells him he should be embarrassed to be talking about himself in the third person this way, but it feels right, and when Stiles smiles up at him for the first time he decides that nothing can be wrong with what he’s doing right now. Derek smiles back, his heart pounding with love for this boy he didn’t even know existed until today.

He keeps moving his finger in tiny circles as he closes his other hand around Stiles’ cock, thumb teasing his slit and watching as pink lips form a little ‘o’ of pleasure or surprise, or maybe both. His baby’s eyes flutter closed and his lips stay parted, and Derek knows sometime soon he’s going to push his cock past them and let his baby suckle on his daddy’s dick.

Derek’s cock stirs with renewed interest but he ignores it, focusing his attention on learning which touches make his baby mewl and sigh and push up into his touch. His ass is hungry, pulling Derek’s finger in to the second knuckle, then rocking in time with the hand moving on his dick. Derek imagines what it will feel like when it’s his cock surrounded by that tight heat and feels a little more seed dribble out of his head even though he just came harder than he has in ages.

It’s tempting to find out exactly how it would feel right now, but he likes the idea of training Stiles even more. If he takes his time and stretches him, uses toys to help him learn how to take his daddy’s cock, it will be that much better when he finally slides inside his perfect boy for the first time.

Stiles is panting, cheeks flushed and back arched, and Derek twists the finger inside of him just a little, making him come up off the changing pad with a surprised little mewl. He can tell how close his boy is, so Derek leans over and closes his lips around the head of his baby dick, cheeks hollowed as he sucks until Stiles grunts and spills against his tongue.

Derek pulls off to look down at the body underneath him, watching the way he shakes with the aftermath of his orgasm and the pink flush spreading across his chest and thighs. He chases the heat with his free hand, then he looks up to find Stiles watching him with wide eyes.

“My perfect boy,” Derek says, leaning over to press a soft kiss against his baby’s lips. His tongue darts out to hold his boy’s mouth open, letting him taste himself on his daddy as he kisses him for the first time.

It’s clear Stiles has never been kissed before. He doesn’t have any finesse at all, but he’s enthusiastic, and the rest Derek can teach him. He pulls back with one last soft brush of lips, smiling down at his baby. His finger’s still buried inside Stiles, and he wiggles it a little just to hear him grunt and then let out a little giggle. The sound makes Derek’s heart thump painfully, and he eases his finger free and presses a kiss to Stiles’ forehead this time.

“Daddy loves you so much,” he whispers. “I’m going to take care of you forever.”

Promise made, he straightens up and reaches for the wipes someone left on top of the changing table. “Now, you must be a hungry boy. Let’s get you cleaned up and then we’ll see about finding you something to eat.”

Stiles makes a happy little gurgling noise, and Derek decides to take it as agreement. He smiles as he wipes the rest of his come off his baby’s skin, then he tosses the wipes and the old diaper in the trash. It’s tempting to ditch the diaper altogether so he can feel his boy’s little dick pressed against him while he carries him, but he knows that’s just asking to get peed on. Then again, he’s not sure how much he’d really mind that. He belongs to Stiles as much as Stiles belongs to him, after all, and he wouldn’t mind wearing his baby’s mark.

He puts a fresh diaper on anyway, then he strips out of his jeans and henley, leaving him in just his boxer briefs. He reaches down to adjust his erection before he turns back to the changing table, hands sliding under his boy to lift him up against Derek’s chest. His baby’s bare skin feels perfect against him, round bottom cupped in one hand and his head resting on Derek’s shoulder.

He doesn’t have enough control of his limbs to move his arms on his own, so Derek helps him wrap thin arms around his neck before he walks them both out to the kitchen. When they get there Derek spots a high chair for the first time, set up next to the small table where he sometimes eats his meals. Most of the time he just sits on the couch in front of the TV, but now that he has a baby to think about he’ll probably be using the table a lot more often.

Stiles doesn’t have enough muscle control to sit up in a high chair yet, though, and he wonders vaguely where he can find one of those reclining baby seats in Stiles’ size. For now Derek supposes he’ll just have to hold his boy while he feeds him, not that that’s a hardship. 

“Let’s get some food in that tummy,” he says, running a hand up and down Stiles’ back while he moves past the table into the kitchen proper. He reaches for a can of formula and reads the directions, frowning at the mention of low-fluoride water and wondering if it actually matters, considering his baby was eating solid food up until the Council found him.

He wonders if it would taste better mixed with milk, then he remembers that he hasn’t forced himself out of the house to go grocery shopping in too long. When it was just him he was happy to run the woods in his fur, hunting game and eating it raw. But now he’s got another life depending on him, and that means he’s going to have to start acting more like a person. 

Derek sighs and presses a kiss to the side of his boy’s neck before he pulls the fridge door open, blinking in surprise when he takes in the fully stocked fridge. Not only is there a full gallon of milk, but there’s juice and vegetables and what looks like good cuts of steak. Later he’ll probably be pissed that Deucalion’s been keeping close enough tabs on him to know that he hasn’t been grocery shopping in nearly a month, but for right now he just grabs the milk and walks back over to the counter.

“You want to try this with some milk, sweet boy?” he asks, smiling when Stiles makes an inquisitive noise against his shoulder. He has a feeling the sedative they gave him is going to make him sleepy for the rest of the day, but that’s okay with Derek. His only plan for the afternoon was another workout, and he’s happy to skip it in favor of giving all his attention to his boy.

Derek mixes up the formula with some bottled water according to the directions on the can, then he tops off the bottle with the milk. It’s two percent, which isn’t what he would have chosen, but it’s better than nothing. Still, when it’s time to buy more milk he’s going to stick with whole for a while, at least until Stiles gets some more meat on his bones.

He likes the idea of feeding his boy up, showering him with treats and calorie-dense foods until he’s got a little layer of baby fat instead of the skin and bones he is right now. He wants to be able to tickle a soft belly, to run his hands over chubby thighs and to see the creases in his baby’s cheeks when he smiles up at his daddy. His dick likes the idea too, chubbing up in his underwear, and Derek has a feeling he’s going to spend a lot of time hard from now on. 

But there’s nothing he can do about his dick or Stiles’ weight right now, so he puts the milk away and then he picks up the bottle and carries it and Stiles to the living room.

Once they’re settled on the couch he shifts Stiles until he’s lying across Derek’s lap, head supported in the crook of his elbow. He blinks up at Derek, completely trusting, and Derek’s amazed all over again at how lucky he is. Melissa had said he took to the transition easily, but Derek was still half expecting Stiles to freak out when he woke up alone with a stranger. Stiles seems to think he’s right where he belongs, though, almost like he knows as well as Derek that they were meant to find each other. 

He knows it’s possible there will still be a meltdown sometime down the road, when Stiles starts to age up a little and stops existing in the moment so much. He might start to remember things from his old life, and when that happens sometimes there’s rebellion or tantrums or even actual fear, according to the people at the Center. When it happens they sometimes recommend regression, just to help the baby find peace with their situation again. Derek wouldn’t really mind keeping him regressed, especially when it means Stiles would continue being completely dependent on him for everything.

But for now he looks utterly peaceful, as though he can’t remember a time when he wasn’t safe in Derek’s arms. The thought makes Derek smile, and he leans over to press another soft kiss to his boy’s forehead before he reaches for the bottle.

“Let’s get you fed, sweetheart,” he says, then he rubs the nipple against pink lips until Stiles opens his mouth and starts to suck.

His dick throbs at the sight, and he adjusts his hold on his baby until Stiles’ ass is seated firmly against it. The weight feels nice, even with his underwear and Stiles’ diaper between them. He imagines feeding his boy this way with Derek’s dick buried inside him, rocking up gently as he holds Stiles close and biting his lip against a moan.

He keeps moving his hips in a slow, steady rhythm as Stiles drinks his milk, making little suckling noises and smacking his lips against the nipple when it’s empty. It makes Derek wish he could nurse, that his baby could just close his perfect lips around Derek’s own nipple and take whatever he needed any time he wants.

He knows it’s not possible, and even if the doctors in the Commune could pull it off, he’s never going to ask. People are already going to think he’s weird, there’s no way he’s going to let that kind of thing get out about him. Still, the thought makes his dick throb with the need for release, and Derek looks down at his boy’s perfect face for a few seconds before he makes a decision.

“You want a little more, baby?” he asks, and when Stiles gurgles up at him he eases him gently onto the couch and stands up long enough to shuck his underwear. He didn’t plan on doing this so soon, but his boy looks so sweet blinking up at him, lips slightly parted, and he just can’t help himself.

Derek kneels next to his baby’s head and presses his thumb to Stiles’ lips until they part enough to let him in, immediately sucking on the tip of his thumb while Derek reaches down to stroke himself. He’s so hard at this point that he knows he won’t last, but that’s okay. He just wants to mark his boy in as many ways as he can, just so the whole world can tell exactly where Stiles belongs. When he’s close enough that he has to grip the base of his dick to hold back his orgasm he pulls his thumb free from Stiles’ sucking mouth, using his free hand to hold his jaw open as he guides the tip of his cock between Stiles’ lips instead.

“There you go, baby,” he whispers as those perfect lips close around his head and start to suck. “Daddy’s got some more milk, just for you.”

It’s a struggle not to fuck into his boy’s mouth, to stuff him full and watch his eyes start to water as he chokes on his daddy’s cock for the first time. But Derek doesn’t want to scare him, doesn’t want to lose those sweet smiles or the tender way Stiles looks up at him as though he’s the answer to all his baby’s prayers. So Derek holds his hips still and lets Stiles suckle, and even then he still comes way too fast.

His load is bigger than Stiles can handle, and Derek’s hand circles his throat to feel it working to swallow everything his daddy’s giving him. He watches as come dribbles out around his cock head, sliding down his baby’s chin and out of the corners of his mouth. When he chokes a little Derek pulls his cock free, then he picks up his boy and holds him against his chest, rubbing his back while he waits for the coughing to subside.

“You did so good for Daddy,” Derek murmurs, ignoring the come smearing on his neck and shoulder from where his baby’s rubbing his face against his bare skin. He doesn’t mind at all, because Stiles is scent marking him just like a wolf would, and it makes Derek’s own wolf want to howl. “Such a good boy. So perfect for me.”

Derek’s still kneeling on the floor, Stiles pressed against his chest with his legs straddling Derek’s thighs. His diaper’s pressed right up against Derek’s spent cock, so he feels the sudden, heavy moisture almost before he catches the smell of urine in the air.

“Did my smart boy use his diaper?” Derek says, rubbing Stiles’ round bottom through his diaper before he lifts his baby back onto the couch. “Let’s get that nasty thing off before my baby gets a rash.”

He’s kind of surprised at how easily the baby talk comes to him. He’s been around babies before, of course, but not since he was still a kid himself. Still, there was his baby sister Cora and all his younger cousins back when he was still part of a pack, and the care of all of them was pretty much a community responsibility. Derek’s changed plenty of diapers and fed plenty of bottles in his day, and apparently he picked up on how to talk to babies in a soothing voice, too, because the words come out of him now on instinct.

When he pulls the diaper off he finds that his baby’s little dick is standing at attention again. He’s not sure if it was the act of pissing or the way he was pressed against Derek that did it, but in the end it doesn’t really matter. His boy’s body is at that age where it responds to every bit of stimulus, no matter how small, and Derek’s more than happy to indulge him.

The reason he’d asked for a sixteen-year-old was mainly because that was how old he was when he lost everything. It was a punishment for himself as much as wish fulfillment, though he wasn’t thinking of it that way at the time. There was also the fact that it would be much harder for the Council to find a minor who could be pulled from his life without anyone noticing, or so he thought at the time. But now that he sees how responsive Stiles is, the way he coos and squirms into Derek’s every touch, he couldn’t be more grateful that he’d made what he thought was an impossible request.

“Does my boy want to feel good again?” He asks, his hands stroking along the baby-smooth skin of Stiles’ thighs.

He eases his baby’s legs a little further apart and slides two fingers behind his balls to rub at the taut skin there. The touch makes his little cock jump, straining like it’s seeking its daddy’s touch all on its own. He likes the thought that his boy’s body recognizes his touch already, likes thinking that Stiles was made for this, made for him.

He moves his fingers further down, circling his baby’s pucker as he thinks about all the ways he can stretch Stiles until he’s ready for Derek’s cock. He’s big, even for a were, and Derek knows it’s going to take some work before his boy can take his cock easily. He pictures keeping Stiles stretched open on a plug, ready to take his daddy’s cock at any given moment, and knows exactly what toys he’s going to order for his baby first.

When Stiles lets out a sweet little whimper Derek smiles, leaning over to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Okay, sweetheart, Daddy knows what you want,” he says, then he closes his hand around his baby’s dick and begins to stroke.

The noises Stiles makes are positively addicting. He’s panting already, face and chest flushed and the head of his cock an angry red. Derek slides his thumb over the slit, gathering the moisture there and using it to ease his grip as he strokes his boy a little faster. He can tell Stiles is close when his hips start to rock minutely, his range of motion limited by the fact that his limbs don’t really work right now. He’s making little grunting sounds, though, heart pounding fast and a few seconds later he tenses and comes over Derek’s fingers.

Derek keeps stroking him as his body shudders through the last of his orgasm, finally letting go only when Stiles makes a pained little noise in the back of his throat. He gathers some of the come from Stiles’ chest and rubs it into his skin, making little circles on his belly until Stiles giggles breathlessly and tries to squirm away from him.

“Okay, ticklish boy,” Derek says, grinning as he lets his fingers dance across his baby’s skin, eliciting another laugh. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

Instead of going back to the bedroom for a clean cloth he grabs his discarded boxers off the floor, using the fabric to clean up the rest of Stiles’ come. Once his boy is dry and more or less clean Derek runs a hand down his chest to rest against his flat belly, contemplating whether or not they should get in the bath while they’re both already undressed.

But Derek wants to order some toys before it gets too late, mainly so they’ll get to him as quickly as possible, and surely if they take a bath now they’ll just end up needing another one before bed anyway. Decision made, Derek starts to stand up, intent on letting his boy rest on the couch while he grabs his laptop and a fresh diaper. As soon as he starts to move away Stiles makes a distressed sound, amber eyes wide and if Derek’s not imagining it, a little glossy. Just as Derek suspected, he looks beautiful on the verge of tears, and he finds himself almost looking forward to his baby’s first real tantrum.

He wonders what it would take to get Stiles to be naughty enough to warrant a spanking. He’d like to see that round bottom all red and hot from Derek’s hand, maybe the backs of his thighs too. Stiles’ eyes would fill with tears but he’d take his punishment so beautifully, and afterwards Derek would sit his baby on his dick so he could feel the heat of his red bottom against his skin. He’d kiss him and tell him how sorry he was to have to punish him, then promise to love Stiles anyway, even when he’s being a bad boy.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asks, kneeling back down next to the couch and reaching out to trace Stiles’ trembling lips with the tip of his finger. “You don’t want to wait here while Daddy gets you a new diaper?”

Stiles makes another disgruntled sound and flexes his little fingers, and Derek’s heart clenches as he realizes his boy’s trying to reach out for him. He’s being clingy, just like they talked about at the Center, and when Derek thinks about Stiles’ past he realizes it’s probably been a long time since he had someone just to hold him and make him feel safe.

Maybe not since his mother died, which means it’s been years since he had this kind of affection. They’ve both been alone for way too long, in a world that didn’t care whether either of them lived or died. It’s not fair, but they have each other now, and Derek’s never planning to let him go. He pulls Stiles to him, standing up and cradling his boy against his chest.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Daddy will never, ever leave you. You belong to me now, and you’ll never have to be alone again,” he murmurs, pressing kisses against Stiles’ warm skin as he carries him into the bedroom to get him a fresh diaper. He can grab the laptop just as easily with Stiles snuggled against him, and shopping for all the toys he wants to use on his boy will be even more fun with Stiles perched in his lap like it’s right where he’s always been meant to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for the chapter: Somnophilia, forced oral sex, penetration (finger only this time), discussions of feeding kink, come marking, watersports (sort of), obsessive behavior. Derek will have some dark thoughts occasionally throughout but none of them will actually happen.
> 
> If I haven't warned for something you think I should at any point, let me know. Also let me know if there's something you want to see. No promises, of course, but I can try. I'm not sure yet how long this will be, but I do have a little plot planned in between all the porn.


	3. Chapter 3

One of the biggest drawbacks to living in an all-werewolf community hidden deep in the forest is the lack of technology. They’ve got satellite TV, which works pretty well as long as it’s not storming, but the cell phone service is spotty at best, even in the center of town. Worst of all, however, is the satellite internet connection. It’s slow and frustrating and most of the time Derek doesn’t bother. He doesn’t even really miss it, because he lived rough the whole time he was tracking Kate, so it wasn’t like he had a high-speed internet connection to get used to.

Now that he’s settled in the Commune he’s got a laptop he barely uses, because there’s no one out there missing him, so it’s not like he has anyone to exchange emails with or follow on Facebook. He doesn’t have to work, not when the entire Hale fortune came to him after his family died, so he spends most of his days working out or wandering the forest surrounding his cabin on four paws.

All that plus the frustratingly slow speed means he doesn’t bother with the internet much, but now that he’s got a warm body snuggled against his chest, eyes fluttering as his boy fights sleep, Derek doesn’t mind the normally frustrating wait. Stiles’ chest is pressed against his own, legs splayed on either side of Derek’s hips and he’s mouthing at Derek’s neck like maybe he’s looking for something to suck on. 

He smiles down at his baby, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before he glances back up at the computer screen just in time for it to finally load. Half the reason it’s taken so long is because the website is so image heavy, but Derek doesn’t mind that either, because he wants to see exactly what he’s buying before he uses it on his baby. 

The site is geared toward humans, of course, but that’s fine, because his boy’s not ready for anything near as big as a werewolf yet. He’s completely innocent, which means Derek’s going to have to exercise a level of patience that will rival hunting Kate when he starts training his boy. And he doesn’t mind that either, because it just means more time to savor the anticipation of finally sliding his cock into his baby’s willing hole for the first time.

The first thing Derek puts in his online cart is a six-piece set of training plugs. The smallest one is barely wider than his thumb, and the largest goes up to nearly the width of his cock. It isn’t going to help prepare his boy for his knot, but Derek will worry about that later. For now he’s more than content with the idea of getting his baby started with his fingers, then opening him up further and further until finally he can take Derek’s dick without complaint. 

He runs a hand down Stiles’ bare back, enjoying the feel of smooth skin under his fingers as he breathes in the pungent scents of piss and come clinging to his baby’s skin. Later Derek will give him a bath and wash off most of his scent, but it should already be sinking into Stiles’ skin enough to mark him as Derek’s property to every other wolf in the Commune. His wolf purrs with satisfaction at the knowledge, and Derek looks away from the laptop screen to nuzzle into Stiles’ neck and just breathe him in for a few moments.

It’s been a long time since he had something to care so much about, something that was all his to protect and to _own_ so completely. The feeling is overwhelming, making his eyes flash and his fangs drop to scrape ever so carefully along the tender skin of his boy’s neck. The last thing he’d ever want to do is really hurt his baby, but he’s overcome with the urge to claim all of a sudden, to bite and mark the way he would a mate. 

The thought makes him blink and pull back to look down at Stiles, because is he really that far gone that he’s thinking about mating a captive human he’s only known for a few hours just because the kid smells good and has a pretty smile? Then again, if he’d chosen the mating run option instead, that’s exactly how it would have happened. Derek knows without a doubt that he would have chosen Stiles, would have fought tooth and nail against every other Were in the run to claim Stiles as his own before they ever spoke one word to each other.

It’s better this way, with his baby sweet and docile and completely dependent on him for every single need, but it’s comforting to think that Stiles really was meant for him. He’s right where he belongs, fast asleep with his head lolling against Derek’s shoulder and his lips parted just enough for Derek to feel each soft breath he takes.

Derek smiles and presses a kiss to his temple, then he turns his attention back to the laptop screen. He spends the next hour adding more things to his cart: a medium-sized dildo, a vibrator just for fun, a few bottles of good lube, and an enema kit that will be easier to use on someone who’s basically immobile than the Fleet bottles they carry at the drugstore in town. The one he chooses has a hose attachment and attached bag, and Derek’s cock twitches when he pictures using it on his boy for the first time. 

At the last minute he adds one more plug to his cart, this one flared at its base to nearly the width of his knot. Stiles won’t be able to take it for awhile, but Derek figures it’s better to be prepared than regret passing it over later. 

The first burst of impatience hits him after he inputs his credit card information and waits for his order to go through. It doesn’t take any longer than anything else he’s done on the computer in the past hour or so, but until he gets the confirmation message he keeps expecting the connection to fail and make him start all over again. In the end his order goes through, assuring him that it will be delivered two days from now. He paid for overnight delivery, but given the way the Commune’s mail gets filtered through the post office in the nearest town, he knows that means two days at the least.

But he doesn’t mind the wait, not when he’s got his baby here with him. Derek shuts off his laptop and stands up, carrying his sleeping boy over to the couch. He doesn’t set Stiles down when he reaches for the file Melissa gave him to read over, instead picking it up on the way and settling on the couch with Stiles still nestled against his chest. Derek arranges him so he’s supported by one arm, head resting on Derek’s shoulder and huffing little breaths against his neck. With his free hand he flips through the file, taking a moment to try to sound out his boy’s real name before he shakes his head and moves on to the summary of Stiles’ past that Melissa’s already told him about.

She’s right that Stiles has taken to his new life more easily than Derek ever expected. He understands how it works, thanks to all the conversations he had with Deucalion before he agreed to take on a baby. He knows there are designer drugs, created in some lab somewhere and then tweaked by the doctors in the werewolf community, that arrest both cognitive and motor function temporarily. 

The idea is that as the drug wears off, the babies slowly regain the use of their limbs and their ability to relearn basic tasks. In theory they could age all the way up to adulthood eventually, as long as nothing goes wrong, though Derek’s never heard of that happening. There’s a risk of bad reactions to the drugs, of course. According to Deucalion, there have been a few instances of babies being regressed and getting stuck in permanent infancy, but when it’s happened the parents just embraced the idea of having a newborn for the rest of the baby’s life. Two humans in the history of the Commune have died due to an allergic reaction to the drugs, but it’s rare enough not to be considered a true risk. 

Derek’s fairly sure Stiles isn’t going to have any trouble regaining control of his body, judging by the fact that he’s so sensitive to Derek’s touch already. He’s been assured he can keep his baby as helpless as he wants indefinitely, but he’d like Stiles to be able to hold up his head and maybe even crawl eventually. 

Having a baby to care for means Derek can’t shift into his wolf skin and spend his days wandering the forest anymore, but once Stiles grows a little Derek looks forward to taking him out to the woods sometimes and letting him play among the trees. The idea of letting his boy age beyond that, to regain enough cognitive function to question what’s happening to him makes Derek nervous, but he figures he’s got plenty of time to worry about that later. 

For now it’s enough to have his baby here with him, too-thin body nestled safely against Derek’s chest as he runs a warm hand up and down Stiles’ bare back. It surprises him a little, how good it feels to have another body so close after being on his own for so long. Growing up in a family pack, touch had been a constant part of his life until Kate came along. Even before she killed his entire family he’d withdrawn from them, shying away from touch and dodging family get-togethers out of fear that one of them would smell her on him and figure out what was going on.

He’s spent too many nights wishing that had happened, that his parents had interceded and broken up a relationship he’d known was wrong, but selfishly clung to. He knew Kate was too old for him, convinced himself that she loved him even though he knew deep down that it was a lie. He might have been able to believe it despite their age difference, but Kate hadn’t quite been able to hide her sadistic streak, and the only reason Derek hadn’t stood up for himself when she was cruel and belittling was because he was afraid she’d dump him and move on to someone older and more experienced.

Derek looks down at Stiles and wonders if that’s how he’d feel if Derek had chosen the mating run instead of adoption. Would Stiles have clung to him the way Derek clung to Kate back when he was Stiles’ age? Would he worry constantly that Derek was going to figure out how clueless and pathetic he was and trade him in for someone closer to his own age? 

Of course that would never happen, and aside from Kate and a few kisses with Paige, Derek isn’t all that experienced either. But he knows how Stiles would see it, if he could understand what’s happening to him. Derek’s older -- though not as old as Kate was when she sunk her claws into him -- and he’s the one with all the power, so of course Stiles would see him as strong and worldly and too good to spend his time with some little human.

The thought makes Derek clutch his baby just a little bit closer, which is silly, really, because it’s not as though Stiles can go anywhere. Still, Derek never wants his boy to feel the way Kate made him feel, and he’ll do everything he can to make sure Stiles feels wanted every day for the rest of his life.

He drops a kiss on his baby’s forehead before he turns back to his file, frowning at the details of his time in foster care before he turns the page to the dietary recommendations the Center provided. Most of his diet has been formula and soft foods since he’s been in werewolf custody, and as Derek runs down the list he recognizes a lot of the things he spotted in his fridge and pantry. There’s a number for a Doctor Deaton as well, with a handwritten note from Melissa instructing Derek to call his clinic or the Center if he has any concerns at all.

Derek’s fingers skim over Stiles’ ribs where they jut out a little too much, smiling when his boy makes a disgruntled noise in his sleep and tries to squirm out of his touch. His main concern is his baby’s weight, but Derek knows only time and a good diet can fix that. Still, it couldn’t hurt to talk to a doctor who knows more about humans than he does, so Derek makes a mental note to call and schedule an appointment, just to make sure he’s doing everything right.

He flips to the next page in the file, skimming the doctor’s notes from his initial intake exam. He’s horrified but not surprised to see that his boy was even skinnier when they first took him from wherever he was living; it’s clear he wasn’t being cared for in his foster home, and Derek’s more grateful than ever that Deucalion found him and brought him home to Derek where he belongs. 

There are notes from the surveillance Deucalion’s team did when the found Stiles, mentions of who he associated with and his comings and goings. As far as Derek can tell his baby didn’t have any friends, which means there really is no one to miss him. Derek hates the thought of his boy being lonely for so long, but it’s a relief to know there’s chance of anyone looking for him. 

It means Stiles is really his forever, as long as the human police don’t get involved, and there’s no reason they’d spend much time searching for one missing orphan when so many humans disappear without a trace every day. Chances are good that when his foster home does report him missing, the police will assume he’s dead already and not bother looking. 

As though he can tell what Derek’s thinking about, Stiles whimpers in his sleep, his forehead scrunching up against Derek’s shoulder. He smoothes a hand down Stiles’ back and makes little shushing noises, turning his head to press kisses to his boy’s face and neck. 

“You’re okay, sweetheart, you’re safe,” he murmurs, rubbing Stiles’ back more firmly when his whimpers only grow louder. 

Derek pushes the folder with Stiles’ records aside and stands up, one hand still moving up and down his back and the other cupping his round bottom. He sways back and forth, trying to calm his boy or maybe ease him out of whatever nightmare he’s caught in, but all it does is make Stiles whimper some more and burrow closer to Derek’s chest. 

There’s no mention of nightmares in the surveillance section of the file, but chances are good whoever was on the team didn’t stick around to listen after Stiles went to sleep. But it’s okay, because Derek still has nightmares too, so if anyone can understand, it’s him.

“Time to wake up, sweetheart,” Derek says, his voice soft as he taps Stiles on the cheek. “Come on, baby, come back to me.”

It takes a few minutes of Stiles fighting through the lingering effects of the sedative and the images in his mind, but just when Derek thinks he’s going to have to resort to more drastic measures Stiles blinks his beautiful eyes open. 

“There you are,” Derek says, smiling and pressing more kisses to his baby’s face. “Shh, no more bad dreams, sweetheart. You’re safe here, Daddy won’t ever let anything hurt you.”

He carries a still sleepy Stiles into the kitchen, clutching him tight as he pulls the fridge open and digs until he finds a supply of pudding cups hidden behind the apple juice. 

“What do you think? Rice pudding or chocolate?” he asks, glancing at Stiles where he’s rubbing his cheek on Derek’s bare shoulder. He chuckles and presses another kiss to the top of Stiles’ head. “Chocolate it is.”

He pauses long enough to grab one of the new airplane-shaped plastic spoons that’s been washed and left in his dish drain, then he carries baby and pudding and spoon over to the table and sits down. Stiles makes an interested noise when he pulls the foil top off the cup, his head moving a little against Derek’s shoulder as though he’s trying to lift it enough to look. Derek sets the pudding down long enough to adjust Stiles in his grip so he’s perched on Derek’s lap, leaning back against Derek’s chest and his diaper-clad bottom snug against Derek’s dick.

The first bite of pudding makes his boy smack his lips, eyes going a little wide, and Derek grins and makes a note to pick up more chocolate pudding when they go out for the first time. He’s not thrilled about the idea of having to mingle in the community, but he knows that’s the whole point of this change in his life. Deucalion wants him to integrate into the Commune in a real way, and having a human to care for will force him to do things like shop and make doctor’s appointments. 

Just thinking about it annoys him, but then he looks down at Stiles and remembers why it’s worth it. It will be worth any amount of dealing with other people to keep his boy happy and well fed, to watch his little cheeks start to fill in and his belly and thighs plump up. Derek traces the curve of his baby’s cheek with the tip of one finger as he watches Stiles suck the last bit of pudding off the spoon. 

“All done,” Derek says with a smile. “That’s my good boy. Now, let’s get cleaned up before dinner, what do you think?”

He hoists Stiles back into his arms and plants a smacking kiss on his lips before he sets the spoon in the sink and heads for the bathroom. He’s never understood the point of the giant tub in the cabin when there's a separate shower right next to it, but now that he’s got a baby to wash, he’s grateful for it. It means they can get in the tub together, that Derek can hold him while he gets them both clean and he doesn’t have to worry about supporting Stiles’ weight standing up in the shower. 

Once the water is warm and the bathtub starts to fill Derek strips Stiles out of his diaper and throws it in the trash. It’s a little bit of a juggling act, since he’s still getting used to carrying a body that’s almost as tall as he is, but Stiles’ weight is easy enough for him to handle. In fact he’s looking forward to the day when his boy feels even more substantial in his arms, to feeling a soft tummy pressed up against him and planting kisses on chubby cheeks.

Whoever outfitted his house for a baby left one of those plastic bath inserts that’s big enough to fit a human baby in, for the times when Derek wants to bathe him without getting in with him. Right now he just pushes it out of the way and waits for the tub to get full enough for both of them, then he shuts off the tap and hoists Stiles securely into his arms before he steps into the tub. 

Slowly he lowers them both into the water, using one hand to grip Stiles close and the other to brace himself against the edge of the tub until they’re leaning back against cool porcelain. It feels nice in a way Derek didn’t expect, with the cool surface of the tub behind him and the warmth of his baby pressed against his front. He’s been half hard for most of the day, and now that Stiles is leaning against him with his bare bottom pressing back into Derek’s dick, it’s even harder to resist the urge to skip the training and just force his way inside. 

Instead he reaches for the soap and takes his time lathering them both up, slick fingers running over his boy’s shoulders and down his back, then along his sides and over his belly. He takes his time carefully washing each of his baby’s legs, scrubbing the bottoms of his feet and between each toe. He laughs when Stiles squeals and tenses in his grip, peppering the side of his neck with kisses until he settles down again.

Once he’s relaxed Derek lifts him just enough to reach a hand between them, sliding two fingers between Stiles’ cheeks and over his little pucker. Stiles lets out a soft sound at the touch, but he doesn’t try to squirm away when the tip of Derek’s finger presses inside him. He doesn’t push in any further, just moves the tip around a little to make sure his baby’s entrance is clean before he pulls his hand away and lets Stiles settle back on his lap again. He groans when he pulls Stiles’ weight down onto his erection, thrusting up against his boy just once before he settles and reaches for the soap again.

“Let’s get you nice and clean, baby,” Derek murmurs next to Stiles’ ear as he closes a slick hand around his soft cock. He works his hand slowly, listening to the way Stiles’ breath goes shallow and a little labored as Derek brings him to hardness.

When Stiles is hard and panting Derek lets go of his dick to push his legs further apart, drawing his boy’s knees up and planting his feet on either side of Derek’s legs. He rocks up in a steady rhythm, hand finding Stiles’ cock again and thumbing the head with each upstroke.

“You belong to me now, sweetheart,” he whispers in Stiles’ ear, punctuating the declaration with a soft kiss. “You’re mine, body and soul, and I’m going to love you and keep you safe and someday soon, I’m going to fuck you.”

He thrusts up a little harder this time, his grip twisting a little and dragging a strangled moan out of his boy. The sound goes straight to his cock and he imagines pushing inside his helpless baby and just taking what’s his.

“This is mine,” he says, tightening his grip on Stiles’ cock just enough to make his point. “And this is mine,” he says, brushing his lips against Stiles’ neck. His free hand slides down his boy’s chest to splay over his stomach, claws out and scraping gently across his skin so he can feel Stiles shiver against him. “Every inch of you belongs to me now, and I’m never, ever going to let you go.”

He doesn’t know if Stiles understands him. He has no idea if Stiles is reacting to his words or if it’s just the physical sensations making him shiver in Derek’s arms, but either way it only takes a couple more firm strokes and Stiles is coming with a little grunt. Once he’s done Derek lifts him out of the water, climbing out of the tub and wrapping a towel around his boy before he drains the tub.

He doesn’t bother drying himself off before he carries Stiles across the hall to the bedroom, laying his boy down on the mattress with his towel still wrapped around him. For a few moments Derek just kneels on the mattress next to him and looks, letting his fingers trace the curve of his baby’s mouth and the slope of his nose. Everything about him is perfect, and when he blinks up at Derek with his beta gold eyes Derek feels his heart skip a beat.

“You’re perfect. Just perfect and all mine.”

When Stiles smiles up at him Derek can’t help smiling back. He runs his thumb along his boy’s bottom lip again, easing his mouth open before he grips his cock and shuffles forward to push the head between his baby’s lips. Without any prompting he starts to suck like this is what he was made for, and Derek lets himself rock forward just a little, thrusting gently in and out of that willing mouth.

The angle’s a little awkward, so Derek leans forward far enough to slide a hand under Stiles’ neck and lift his head a little. It lets him slide in a little deeper, groaning as he snaps his hips forward harder than he means to. He hears Stiles choke a little and runs his thumb over his jaw in apology, gazing down at damp eyes as he pulls out until just the head is resting on his baby’s tongue.

“Sorry, sweetheart, you’re so perfect for me I got a little carried away,” Derek says, smiling down at Stiles as he suckles on his daddy’s dick. It feels amazing, but it’s not enough, so Derek pulls his cock free and wraps a strong hand around it, stroking fast until he grunts and spills over his boy’s chest and belly.

He pushes his thumb into his baby’s mouth as he strokes himself through his orgasm, the suction making him shudder and spurt weakly over his own fingers. Once he stops shaking he pulls his thumb free, pushing his come-covered fingers between plush lips and watching Stiles suck them clean. When he’s done Derek pulls his fingers free and slides them through the come cooling on Stiles’ chest, then he parts his legs and pushes his index finger inside Stiles in one quick thrust.

The noise Stiles makes is a cross between pained and surprised, so Derek holds his finger there until he feels his boy relax around it. When he does Derek thrusts in and out slowly, pushing his seed as deep as he can before he pulls his finger free and scoops up more of the mess on Stiles’ stomach. He pushes that inside his baby too, his smile turning a little feral when Stiles opens more easily for him this time.

It’s just a finger, sure, and it’s a lot smaller than his cock, but the fact that Stiles takes it so willingly makes Derek even more anxious for the toys he ordered to get here so he can see his boy slick and plugged up and ready for him. He pulls his index finger free and replaces it with his thumb, thrusting in and out in short, sharp jabs until Stiles grunts and sort of spasms like maybe he’s trying to arch up into the touch.

“Perfect,” Derek murmurs as he leans over, easing his thumb free so he can stretch up and press their lips together. He kisses Stiles slow, holding his head just so and showing him just what to do with his tongue. He’s still not great at it, of course, but he’s learning already, and Derek smiles as he pulls back to lift Stiles far enough to pull the towel out from under him. Once he’s wiped off his hand and his boy’s skin, Derek lifts him up and carries him to the changing table to fit a fresh diaper on him.

He leans in again once the diaper’s fastened to press soft kisses to Stiles’ belly, then Derek lifts him up and cradles him close to his chest. “There we go, all clean and feeling nice and relaxed. I bet my baby’s hungry, though. What do you think? Should Daddy make us some dinner?”

The only answer he gets is a sleepy murmur, his boy’s voice muffled against his shoulder. Derek smiles and presses a kiss to Stiles’ temple, then he carries him back to the kitchen to see what he can throw together quickly so he can get back to focusing completely on his perfect boy.


End file.
